Memoir of A Journalist
by mabe
Summary: Christian is a journalist who wants to write about Moulin Rouge, guess who his guide is.. Satine! During the writing, he fell in love with her.. what will happen next? Oh yeah, Satine isn't sick. Please review..
1. Prologue

Prologue

London, 1900.

Morning in London used to be quiet, morning in London used to be cold, morning in London used to be.. Anything but this. 

On the streets, people were divided into groups, and they were all holding the same thing, a newspaper. They were talking rapidly. Obviously, about one same thing. They who weren't in a group were walking slowly through the alley, for they were also reading the same newspaper. Some of them went, "Ooh..," or, "aahh..," like they never read a newspaper before. 

A girl came out from her house, and noticed the odd situation. She was just wondering what have happened when a man and a woman walked in front of her. She heard the man talked, "What a beautiful tale!" 

The woman replied him, "No, it's not a tale, it's a fact. It really happened. Both of them are exist, and I believe they still are until now."

"But where are they now, what do they do now?" asked the man.

"We have to find that out by ourselves." said the woman.

The girl got confused, "Whom are they talking about?" thought she. 

She decided to search for a clue, so she walked down the street. She watched the unordinary behaviour of the citizens. She saw people walked and shook their head. She saw the newspaperman run out of stock. "Ah, the newspaper!"

She ran to him and gave him some money. "You're lucky, Miss!" told he, "This is the last one!"

The girl opened the newspaper, pages to pages, impatiently, until she found what to her the right one. The newspaper had a bonus pages that morning. Before she opened it, she gasped as she read its title:

_"Moulin Rouge: A Story About Love." Based On The Life Journal Of Christian M._

Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge and its characters. This fan fiction is only one of my appreciation to the best movie ever, Moulin Rouge!!

The story actually came to me when I read "Memoir of A Geisha" by Arthur Golden. There, Mr. Golden told that he has been friend to a geisha who guided him through his novel writing. So, I thought, geisha.. courtesan.. satine.. christian.. and here it is, my fan fiction. Please review, pls!!

The next chapters are the story inside the bonus pages of the newspaper. So, happy reading!!! J


	2. Summer In Paris

Chapter 1 

Summer In Paris

It is 1899, the summer of love. I know nothing about Moulin Rouge, even though I've heard about it before. And that was the reason I have traveled from London to Paris. Yes, Moulin Rouge! 

The editor in newspaper office where I have worked had sent me to a village near Paris, Montmarte. It wasn't like my boss had said, for a moment I could picture him saying this, " The village of sin!" (Apparently, that is why, I, as the youngest journalist, was sent here.) But it was the center of Bohemian world. Musicians, writers like myself, and painters, including my only connection to Moulin Rouge, the famous painter, Henri Marie Toulouse de Lautrec Monfa.

I have imagined that, as a famous person, he must be live in a fancy place. But when I finally reached his apartment, and after the hostile landlady took me to his room, I saw the dirtiest door I've ever seen. It took a few knocks on it before a dwarf, dressed as a nun, opened it.

"What!?" he said abruptly.

"Well, I'm looking for Mr. Lautrec, Toulouse Lautrec."

"You're looking at him," said the dwarf with a grin.

"You are Mr. Lautrec? The famous painter?"

"What? You expect someone taller?" suddenly the grin has gone.

"No, no!" I lied, "I'm just surprised to see you with the dress."

"Oh, this?" he pointed his dress and the smile came back, "we are rehearsing a play." He suddenly realized that I was still standing in front of the door. So he pulled me into the room, or actually, grabbed my hand and threw me to the couch.

"It's very modern," he continued, "called, _'Spectacular Spectacular'_. And it sets in Switzerland."

I was so amazed by him that I didn't notice four other men in that room. One of them who was bald and talked like he whispered said, "Toulouse, who is he?"

"He is..," said Toulouse, "he is.. Who are you?"

"Christian, the journalist." I decided to explain more when I saw his eyes moved from right to left, as if he has forgotten about our appointment several months ago."

"I wrote to you two months ago, I am the journalist from London, wants to write about Moulin Rouge, ring a bell?"

His another friend, who looks like a Latino, maybe an Argentinean said, "Ooh.. I love journalists."

"Oh, yes, of course! How could I forget?" said Toulouse finally.

"Oh, I didn't know that you're working with another writer," said another man who was wearing… a woman clothes?

"No, no. He wants me to be his connection to Moulin Rouge. You see, he's making an article about it."

"He came in a right time then," said his another friend, who looked a little bit older and was wearing a tall hat, "we're going there tonight."

"Yes, you see.. We have a meeting with the investor for the show," said Toulouse, "I will introduce you to your guide, she knows Moulin Rouge better than anyone else, even Zidler the owner himself. She is the number one courtesan, the star of Moulin Rouge, the Sparkling Diamond, she is Satine!"

"Satine?" I repeated the name, which I thought, was a beautiful name. The lady must be a beautiful one too. And important! I couldn't meet her like this.

"Oh, OK. But I don't have anything to wear," I said.

"We'll think about it later, but first..," he didn't finish his words, for he and his friends, already knew what he was meant, were smiling to each other. A minute later, I have tasted my first glass of… Absinthe!

I didn't feel anything when I drank it, but afterwards, a pretty little green fairy flew and danced around my head, and giggled happily. I didn't know why, but I was trying to catch her. She ran here and there, so I followed her everywhere. She went outside the room, so I went out, too. 

I walked, I walked, and.. Fell. I didn't notice the downstairs in front of me. So I fell through it.

The last thing I heard were sounds of laugh and someone said, "he only drinks a glass and look at him now!"

And then I fainted.

The chapter's title is taken from a song by a singer from my country, Anggun. Yeah, Go Anggun! Again, pls review.. I will appreciate it no matter how bad it can be. 

Happy reading!


	3. In The Bedroom

Chapter 2

**In The Bedroom**

I woke up in a rough and sheet less bed. "Argh, what happened?" I said, still saw a bird in my eyes. Nevertheless, I managed to see that I was in a different room; it wasn't the painter's room. Err, what was his name? Wait, wait, it was coming back to me now. His name, his name…

"Toulouse! The writer has awaken!" The Argentinean shouted, or to my still spinning head, screamed.

"Oh, good! You're awake!" Toulouse came hurriedly, followed by the other children of the revolution whom I just met a while ago.

"You fell through the stairs," continued Toulouse, "We brought you up here, your new room. (I've talked to landlady about you) We tried to wake you up, (but you were snoring instead) and due to yours and our 8 o' clock appointment, we decided to carry you to bathroom…"

"What for?" I cut his extra-fast-talking.

"To give you a bath," said Toulouse with a tone that indicated the question was the most idiot question ever.

From the back, the Argentinean said, "You have a huge…," he hesitated a little before he continued, "talent!"

I was going to say, "Huh?" but Toulouse has taken a revenge on me by cutting my words.

"Afterwards, we dressed you in the Argentinean's best suit, we put you here, and here you are!"

"OK," I paused for a moment, "no, not OK! You said your 8 o'clock appointment and mine. What my 8 o'clock appointment?"

"Dear child, the cold stairs have frozen your brain," said Toulouse, "First, I said, ' yours and our 8 o'clock appointment', not 'your 8 o'clock appointment and mine'. Second, I've told you that you would meet your guide tonight. So when you were lying unconscious, I arranged a meeting with our lovely Mademoiselle Satine."

"Satine?" That name suddenly blew my headache away. "What time is it?" The question just came out from my mouth and I couldn't hold it down.

"10 minutes to 8 o'clock," Toulouse replied.

Out of nowhere, I stood up on my feet and uttered something that made the five Bohemians opened their mouth in a great disbelieve. "So, what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

This chapter is maybe the shortest of all. I try to make every chapter as short as possible. I'm afraid that you will get bored L

Next chapter will be longer, but will be more interesting too. I promise!

Please give me your review, I'll appreciate it.

Thank you and happy reading!


	4. In The Moulin Rouge, You'll Have Fun

Chapter 3

**In The Moulin Rouge, You'll Have Fun**

When I was 17, my mother bought me a typewriter for my birthday. To be a writer has been my dream since I was a little boy. At that time, I swore to God, I never saw anything so _unbelievable_. I was so proud of it that I never let it out of my sight. Even now, it still lies in the bottom of my suitcase. I still think it's the most unbelievable thing I've ever seen. Until now…

Moulin Rouge has a giant red windmill on its entrance door. And right behind that door you could see a park with a giant elephant stood quietly.

"Good decoration, eh?" asked Toulouse to me.

"No," I replied, "It's great! Tell me its history!"

"I don't know, and if I knew, I wouldn't tell you or you won't have anything to ask to Satine."

As we talked, we approached the main building. The doorman let us in. Inside, I saw a large spacious room, filled with rich men and beautiful women, dressed in a tidy suit and colourful gown. I never saw so much people in one place before. First I thought it was the effect of the mirrored-wall, but I was wrong. People from all over country were here, for Moulin Rouge is the place where the borjuis and their workers blended into one. Some of them were chatting; the others were dancing, some just sat and watched the dancers, or watched each other watching the dancer. Toulouse then led our way to..

"_Promenoir_!" said he while we seated ourselves, "that's all I can tell you, my friend. _Promenoir_ is a covered walk around the dance floor where people could stroll around, sit down, fetch drinks, or just watch what's going on. But for me it's a place to sketch and to drink." He laughed for a moment before he asked me, "So, what do you think so far?"

"I think," I sighed, "it's the most unbelievable thing I've ever seen."

About a second later, the lights went dim. A figure of a woman on a trapeze slowly descended from top.

"It's her!" whispered Toulouse, "the Sparkling Diamond!"

"Satine..," for the third time in one day, I heard myself saying her name. I watched the trapeze slowly became lower and closer to the crowd who suddenly turned quiet. When it was low enough, a beautiful voice whispered,

_Uh- Let me loose_

The lights then turned back on and two clowns helped Satine to climb down from trapeze. Afterwards, she danced around through the song she sang,

_Oooh, I'm overdue, gimme some room, comin' through_

_Paid my dues, I'm in the mood, me and my girls come to shake the room_

_DJ spinnin', show your hands_

_Let's get dirrty, that's my jam_

_I need that, uh to get me off, sweatin' till my clothes come off_

_It's explosive, speakers are thrumpin'_

_Still jumpin' six in the mornin'_

_Table dancin', glasses are crashin'_

_No question, time for some action_

_Temperatures up, can you feel it_

'_bout to erupt_

_Gonna get my girls, get your boys, gonna make some noise_

_Gonna get rowdy, gonna get a little unruly_

_Get it fired up in a hurry_

_Wanna get dirrty, it's about time that I came to start the _

_Party, sweat drippin' over my body_

_Dancin', getting' just a little naughty_

_Wanna get dirrty, it's about time for my arrival_

The music kept playing, the crowds surrounded her, but Satine suddenly stopped moving and moved her head everywhere, like she was looking for someone. The next thing happened was like a dream to me, she saw me, and she smiled. I think I was the one she was looking for. She called some male dancers to bring her a chair. When she was settled, the dancers took her and her chair where she pointed at: Me!

_It's about time for my arrival_

She sang that last lyrics when she finally stood before me. I was too shocked to say something. And apparently all the Bohos that accompanied me felt the same way, too. There was not a single sound from us.

"I believe you're expecting me," said Satine to me.

"Yes, yes," I replied, half nervous, half excited.

"So, you're the journalist Toulouse has been telling about. Do you like to begin your _'observation' _now?" While she spoke to me, all eyes were staring at us. I never got so much attention like this before.

"Yes, I mean, now? But, I didn't bring my notebook and my pen and.."

"You don't need a pen when all you will be _observing_ tonight is the dance floor!" Then she pulled me to my _'observation'_ place.

The music was playing again,

_'Put on your red shoes and dance…'_

On the dance floor, Satine did these high-kicks that almost threw my hat away. (Yes, the Argentinean's best suit came also with a hat.) She started a conversation, "I'm so glad that you're interested with our little show," she said between her breath.

"Yes, I.. I.. my boss sent me here and thank you for doing this, I mean, I understand that you're a very busy woman, thank you for accepting Toulouse's offer to be my guide, err.. thank you." I didn't know why I acted this way, I never said or wrote a sentence too long, especially when it had three same words in it.

"Oh, I thought you're the one who told Toulouse to ask me to be your guide." Suddenly she stopped dancing and her voice sounded disappointed.

"Actually, I didn't. But I did urge him to come here early so we could meet right away!" I tried to console her.

"Oh, that's so sweet!" Her smile went back. "I tell you what, since you're being so nice and handsome.." I didn't dance as active as Satine, but I could feel my face blushed more than hers. "I will let you begin your questions tonight. Meet me in The Elephant Room. Alone!"

"Alone?" I asked.

"Totally alone!" She smiled mischievously.

The music once again stopped, and the male dancers who just brought her to me appeared again and lifted her up back to her trapeze. Slowly, the swinging thing took her back to where she came from, where I first saw here, from the sky above, like an angel. An angel, who blew me a kiss before she's gone, accompanied by a round of applause and cheers from the crowd below, and left me wishing it wasn't only a dream.

I once uploaded this chapter, but one day I made a mistake that made me remove my story… but I have uploaded it again, yeaa..

The definition for _Promenoir,_ from _Toulouse-Lautrec _by Udo Felbinger. The descriptoin for the activities in Moulin Rouge (some of them were dancing, …, etc) , from .

The songs are _Dirrty_ by Christina Aguilera, and _Let's Dance _by David Bowie.

I wanna thank Glam And Glitter Diamond for the reviews, thanx a lot!! I'm trully sorry if your older reviews don't appear, it's my fault, I did a terrible mistake.. thank you anyway..

The next chapters will be more musical, and better too. Promise!

Happy reading, and pls review…


	5. I Knew I Loved You

Thank you, EternalSenshi for your review, I hope you keep reading. I must admit some events are taken from the movie, but the story are very much different, I promise… and there'll be a lot more to come, just wait and see..

Hope to hear more from you.. 

Chapter 4

**I Knew I Loved You**

"Tie!?"

"Check!"

"Pen!?"

"Check!"

"Notebook!?"

"Wait, err.. Check!"       

"Good, you're ready to go, Christian!"

The five Bohemians and I were standing right below the Elephant and Toulouse just helped me preparing for my meeting with Satine. The Argentinean suddenly grabbed my shoulder and said,

"No, mi amigo! You're not going anywhere unless you hear me now!"

"Oh, not again!" Behind him, his friends were muttering.

"Listen to me!" said the Argentinean, ignoring them, and looked straightly into my eyes, "my final warning, 'NEVER FALL IN LOVE WITH A WOMAN WHO SELLS THEIR SELVES. IT ALWAYS ENDS BAD!!!' This woman is a courtesan, she's a teaser. Everything that she says to you maybe she says it only for her own pleasures. Just, don't believe everything she says! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?"

The Argentinean sounded angry, why wouldn't he? The man he was talking to was covering his ears, afraid of getting deaf only by listening his friend's loud-volume-advice. Nevertheless, I still could hear him, and that was what I said to him.

"Good!" Satisfied, he let go off his hands.

"Don't worry, Christian," said Toulouse, "he says it all the time, don't take it serious. Oh, yeah, maybe we will come home a little late; right now we're having a meeting with the investor. Now, the girl is waiting, go, go! Hush!" He made a gesture that told me to leave, and with that I walked to the Elephant.

"What about buttoned pants?" I heard the Argentinean shouted.

"Check!" I shouted back.

Satine wasn't there yet when I arrived. When Satine told me that she wanted to meet me in the Elephant, I didn't know that it had a big room on it. The decoration was dominated by red. I tried to relax a little bit by watching the view from its heart-shaped window.

"Heart, heart," I thought, "heart, wait, something wasn't checked! A heart of bravery and filled with self-confidences!" 

Just before I decided to jump out of the window and made myself killed, Satine has saved my life. "This is a wonderful place for an observation, don't you think?" she said while she was entering the room with black lingerie. "Do you want to start now?"

"What?" I asked, confusedly.

"The interview, our discussion about Moulin Rouge. You asked me a question and I'll try to answer it." 

"Oh, that. Well, that's a good idea. If you don't mind, yes, we can start now." With every minute passed by, I got more nervous and nervous.

"OK, let's see." Satine swirled around the room. "The Elephant has been here since the opening night of Moulin Rouge. This painting here was painted by your friend, Toulouse. And the bed here..," she sat down on it, "It just came in here yesterday."

I remembered what the Argentinean told me, _she's a courtesan, she's a teaser, and everything she says maybe she says it only for her_ _pleasures_. So, I was trying to look like I was controlling the situation.

"Ehm, that's nice," I said while opening my notebook.

"What is that?" asked Satine to me. It seemed that she was more interested to my notebook than our meeting. "Is that where you write all your stories?"

"No, it's only my notebook, it's where I write all my interviews and all that journalists usually write. I wish I had stories, but I don't."

"Why? Journalist is a writer, writers have stories. You must have stories."

"Actually, I had one, a long time ago."

"What happened?"

"Well, it didn't work out. It.. I thought we're here to talk about Moulin Rouge." 

"I'm sorry," said Satine, with an innocent face.

"That's all right. Let's move on. So.."

"Do you write poetry, too?" I just found out that Satine could be really hard to be persuaded.

"I heard that Harold Zidler, the owner.." I tried to ignore her.

"Songs? What about songs? Do you have one?"

"Can-can dancers, how many of them?"

"I know you write songs! What kind of songs? Love songs? Songs I can sing for my numbers?"

This has gone too far, I closed my notebook and put it back in my suit. I wouldn't lie, though. Sometimes I write songs to kill my time, and I was sure Satine would be impressed when she heard it.

"Please, please let me hear it. Can you write a song for me?"

A song for her? A song for her must be a song about a man who falls truly in love with her, maybe even before he met her, maybe he falls in love so deeply that when he hears her name, his heart skips a beat, and he repeated it over and over again in one day. Before I knew it, my mind has wandered, searching for inspiration. 

 "I promise, I'll answer all your questions afterwards, I'm dying to hear it, I..," Satine couldn't finish her words, a voice, came out from my heart more than from my mouth has filled the air with a song,

_Maybe it's intuition_

_But some things you just don't question_

_Like in your eyes_

_I see my future in an instant_

_And there it goes_

_I think I've found my best friend_

_I know that it might sound more than a little crazy_

_But I believe_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

I think I dreamed you into life 

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

_I have been waiting all my life_

I couldn't stop myself, I walked to Satine. She didn't smile, she didn't talk, she didn't even move. She just sat on the bed, like before I sang to her, and her blue eyes watched me with a look that I couldn't tell. Her jaw dropped. I really couldn't tell what she was thinking. All I knew that this was my happiest time. Now, together with her. I took her hands, I pulled her into my arms, and then we danced. When we were dancing, Satine put her head on my shoulder, and I swore I could hear the voices of angels before I continued singing,

A thousand angels dance around you 

_I am complete now that I've found you_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

_I think I dream you into my life_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_

_I have been waiting all my life_

We stopped dancing as the song was out. Satine's head was still on my shoulder. It took a moment before both of us were taken back to the Elephant Room from wherever our mind and heart took us earlier. Satine suddenly acted awkward.

"Very good! That was a good song!"

"Good? That's it?" I felt a little disappointed.

"Yes, and you have passed the test. Now you can go home."

"Test? Home? But, what about my questions?"

"I said it before, I promise I'll answer all your questions after your song. I didn't say when. See you tomorrow!"

I said nothing and walked away. "The Argentinean had a point, she says what she wants to say, and does what she likes to do. Prostitutes! But, she's not that bad. I never told anyone that I wrote a story before. And I never let anyone hear my songs, until now," thought me as I walked back to my apartment.

When I got there, I decided to see if Toulouse has arrived yet. He was there, in his room, which, I just realized, was on the top of mine. He held a bottle of Absinthe in his hand, and when he talked, he spilled out a smell of alcohol to my face.

"He wants more than we offered. He wants her in the play. He wants Satine." I assumed that he was talking about the investor.

I left after I put a blanket on him and told him to sleep. In my room, I was lying under my own blanket, but I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about my song, about Satine, about our appointment tomorrow, and how afraid I was that she would cancel it. The investor wanted Satine in Toulouse's play. I think she wouldn't let go such an opportunity, I knew I wouldn't. I hoped she would say no to him. I couldn't wait to meet her. 

"Why?" I asked myself. 

"So, so, I can ask her if she wants to stay to guide me." I answered.

"Yes, that's why!" I said loudly to myself.

"Christian, are you OK?" My voice was so loud that wind flew it through the thin wooden ceiling and woke Toulouse up.

Again, sorry if this chapter is too long for some of you..

I hope it's not confusing, but in this fan fic, Satine has no part in Toulouse's play. And why is that? Hmm, you just have to wait.

The song is _I Knew I Loved You_ by Savage Garden. I thought it would fit the story cause it's told that Christian has fallen in love with Satine ever since he heard his name, although he hasn't realized it yet. But what about Satine? Does she feel the same way, too? More to come..

Christian has fallen in love since he heard his name.. Inspired by Nicole Kidman's interview in Moulin Rouge Behind The Scenes (I guess..) She said, Christian has fallen in love since he saw her on the trapeze, so I take it a little further.. Hope that's OK with you..

Please review, and I'll love you until the end of time!!!

Happy reading!!


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